


vex!helsknight

by Anonymous



Series: Welcome To VexCraft! [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Magic, Vex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Helsknight has a plan:1. Find powerful allies.2. Craft offensive weaponry.3. Defeat Welsknight.The first two come hand-in-hand, but the third might be difficult when the vexes have other plans for him.
Series: Welcome To VexCraft! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843546
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45
Collections: Anonymous





	vex!helsknight

**Author's Note:**

> For EchoMelon, as part of a gift exchange!

The new nether mobs were just as dumb as the old ones, if not dumber. Pacified by gold? Scared of mushrooms? Shivering out of lava?

Even the hermits made fun of them. Zedaph slapped a picture of his own face on a strider and brought it back home as a pet. Tango trapped ten piglins in the same one-by-one-by-two hole and fed them an endless supply of gold in their new utopic fantasy reality. The new nether mobs were utterly ridiculous and a complete disgrace to the land of Hels.

 _The Nether biome_ , Hels had to remind himself constantly. This place was similar to his homeland, but lackluster in many areas. A complete disappointment, if he were to be honest with himself. He had retreated to the Nether to regroup after losing to Wels, to seek out more powerful allies and craft stronger offensive weapons. Yet, he had found nothing but ruins of past civilizations taken over by mindless mobs, containing chests of items that were not extraordinarily powerful in any sense. He had been observing the hermits from afar as they sought out the bastions in search of nether treasure, and his frustrations with the Nether only grew with every discarded piece left behind to despawn.

If the hermits themselves found no value in Nether treasure, there was no point in him lingering in the Nether. He had to look elsewhere for more powerful allies. He had to search elsewhere for more offensive weaponry.

The one thing the hermits couldn't seem to get enough of was a new block, ancient debris, that upgraded diamond tools into netherite tools. They spent hours exploding holes via any means necessary - TNT, beds, end crystals - at the lower levels of the Nether, collecting these 'ancient debris'. That must be a powerful block. Perhaps it was worth his time to get his hands on those 'ancient debris' before he left the Nether.

Cub seemed to be collecting the most amount of ancient debris. Hels followed Cub around, keeping a safe distance behind him so Cub wouldn't sense his presence. Cub sometimes missed out one or two blocks of ancient debris as he walked through the holes he had exploded with his end crystals and Hels quickly claimed those ancient debris blocks for himself. After all, Cub could afford to lose Hels' couple blocks for all his shulker boxes full of ancient debris.

When Cub took the main portal back into the overworld, Hels followed him through. There was nothing else for him in the Nether. He had collected enough ancient debris to upgrade his diamond armour and tools.

Well, he didn't have diamond armour and tools _yet_ , but he could swipe enough diamonds from hermit chests around the server. They were all careless with their diamonds; thinking their treasures were safe behind walls or buried in the ground. Heck, some of them left their store profits unchecked for days. No one would notice a couple diamonds missing here and there.

But that was a task for later. Right now, Hels followed Cub towards the centre of the shopping district where there seemed to be a cubic store in the shape of ancient debris. Night had fallen and Hels strode along the main path more boldly, knowing that his black armour kept him shrouded in darkness.

Cub went around the ancient debris shop to an entrance at the back. He opened and closed the door too quickly for Hels to sneak in unnoticed behind him, and so Hels simply pressed his ear against the wall of the shop to hear what Cub was doing inside.

"I've found more cinnabuns for you," Cub spoke to someone.

 _Cinnabuns_??? What were cinnabuns?

There was a pause in the conversation as thumps against the ground indicated that shulker boxes were being dropped to the floor. The shulker boxes of ancient debris? It was followed by the smooth sliding sound of shulker boxes being opened and the rattling sound of their contents being checked.

"Delicious!" Someone replied. Scar, if Hels had identified the other voice correctly. There was something- or _someone_ \- else in his voice, though, an unnaturally high-pitched, sharp echo that overlay his usual animated voice. "Scar's magic crystals-" It couldn't be Scar, then, if they were speaking of Scar in the third person? "-helped stabilize the portal back into ConCorp. You now have access to all your previous riches, machinery and resources to establish dominance in this new world as well."

"Okay, thanks," Cub responded dismissively. He didn't sound particularly enthusiastic about access to a whole season's worth of collected riches. Hels wondered why.

"We'll be taking these cinnabuns now," Not-Scar spoke again, then laughed: not Scar's usual light-hearted snicker, but something more sinister, cruel, that sent a shiver down Hels' spine. "Don't worry, we'll leave enough for you to stock your shop. We wouldn't want our convexes to lose out on business in this world."

"Thank you," Cub muttered in response, the sacarsm and insincerity in his voice crystal clear, but Not-Scar either didn't catch it or ignored it.

"We expect more cinnabuns the next time we are summoned," Not-Scar commanded, "May the vex be with you."

"May the vex be with you," Cub echoed in a bitter tone.

 _Vexes_. Weren't they a kind of mob? What had the vexes done that made Cub so unhappy? Had this simple _mob_ been able to outsmart sentient players?

Maybe this was the powerful ally he had been looking for.

Hels jumped at the sudden crashing sound from inside the room that followed, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Scar," Cub breathed, audibly relieved. Footsteps shuffled against the floor as they moved about the room. "How do you feel?"

"Sorry," Scar gasped out. It was followed by a moment of silence. "Sorry," Scar repeated, his voice more controlled, low and apologetic, "I didn't know that would happen. I didn't know _they_ -" Scar paused to take a deep breath. When he spoke again, there was a tremble in his small voice. "I didn't know _they_ would come back."

"Neither did I," Cub affirmed with a sigh.

"I wore it as a joke," Scar continued, so softly that Hels had to strain to hear him.

"And I labeled this shop under the ConCorp brand as a joke," Cub continued to reassure. "I didn't think…" Cub trailed off, and Hels could picture him shaking his head.

There was a sharp scrape against the ground, a wooden slab pushed back as someone stood up.

"We have to bury the mask," Scar said, "burn it, so no one can find it again. No one can summon the vexes again."

"Let's do it tomorrow," Cub suggested. "You have to rest."

"I'm fine," Scar tried to dismiss Cub's concerns, but Cub was insistent.

You know _I know_ how drained you are feeling," Cub told him, slightly amused, slightly disapproving, "I know how exhausting vex magic is."

Scar laughed, a breathless chuckle. "Okay," Scar agreed.

The door opened, and Hels pressed himself against the wall around the corner. The light from within the room spilled out, illuminating Cub and Scar as they walked towards the portal at the base of the town hall, Cub gripping Scar's arm tightly as though he was afraid Scar might collapse at any moment.

Hels waited for them to disappear through the portal before he came back around the corner and entered the ancient debris shop's back room, closing the door behind him.

The room was small, big enough for a couple planks acting as a table and a single slab as a chair. There were shulker boxes stacked up against the wall, probably all full of ancient debris, a single glowstone lighting up the room, and a portal made of glass instead of obsidian - this must be what they had been talking about: Scar's magic glass portal: the portal to Season 6.

He couldn't see any vexes in the room, but there was a vex mask resting on the table, face down, still rocking from side to side with the momentum it had been placed down with - clearly the mask that Scar and Cub had been talking about; the mask they had wanted to bury and destroy.

Hels picked up the light-blue mask, feeling its smooth surface between his fingers. He turned the mask around and the vex face grinned at him - static, unmoving, unimpressive.

Where were the powerful little vexes?

 _You brought cinnabuns,_ came a sudden little tinkling voice, sounding so high and so far away that Hels wondered if it had spoken to him or if he had heard the voice in his head.

The few ancient debris that Hels had stuffed in his pockets now floated out, outlined in blue. Hels dropped the mask back onto the table and lunged out both arms to grab his ancient debris back. He managed to hug a couple to his chest, only to have the blue glow a little brighter and the ancient debris easily slipping out of his grip again.

It enraged him.

 _There'll be plenty for you,_ more voices teased, layering over each other as though they were fighting to speak first, despite all saying the same thing, _these are for us._

"Show yourself!" Hels commanded with a shout, whirling himself back and forth. He could see no other entities in the room and it frustrated him that he was at a disadvantage.

 _Don't be impatient,_ the voices continued, as casual as before, bouncing off the walls, echoing throughout the small room. _You started off on the right foot by bringing us cinnabuns. You wouldn't want to cross us now, would you?_

Hels took a deep breath and held it, his face reddening with the effort of holding himself back. Who **were** they, and why did he care to impress them?

 _You're different from the rest of them,_ the voices pondered aloud.

"I'm not one of these hermit butts!" Hels couldn't help but splutter out the insisting words that differentiated himself from the hermits. "I'm Helsknight! I'm better than all of them, combined!"

 _Hmm, arrogance,_ the voices judged him. Hels immediately felt a twisting pang of disappointment shoot through him: he had not been humble enough to live up to their expectations. He was not worthy of the vexes. He needed them in order to improve -

-a sharp awakening mental stab shocked him out of those dazed thoughts. Had the voices been attempting to **mold** him to their will?

 _He's a strong one,_ the voices continued their examination of him, excitement in their tone. _He'd be fun to play with._

Pride swelled up in Hels' chest at the praise. He had pleased the vexes. He was worthy of their -

-he caught himself again. The vexes had attempted the same trick twice; of course he would be able to spot it much quicker. Truly pathetic, if they had to stoop to such depths to convince someone of their worth. Truly annoying, catching him in an emotional loop like that.

"I'm leaving," Hels announced, though he wasn't really sure why he had felt the need to explain himself. He owed nothing to the little vexian creatures. He didn't need their help. He was Helsknight, the greatest champion of Hels. What could these little vexian creatures give him that he couldn't achieve himself?

Hels turned around, resting a hand against the door, about to push it open.

 _Don't go!_ the voices cried, though the desperate tone it contained was doubled with a sense of mockery.

It made Hels hesitate and pause. He glanced over his shoulder at the vex mask laying on the table. Why were the vexes mocking him? Had he missed something? Had he already lost?

 _Yessss_ , the voices everywhere replied his unspoken question in a unanimous booming screech, and the vex mask jumped from the table onto his face.

The smooth surface of the mask was cold against his cheeks when his fingers found the line between the mask and his face and popped the mask off.

The exhaustion that hit him had him collapsing to his knees, the mask clattering from his loose grip to the ground. The last ripples of what Hels could only describe as _magic_ sent a final shiver through him before they faded away and he felt absolutely drained of both power and energy.

He was still in the back room of Cub's ancient debris shop. The door was agape behind him and the presence of sunlight told him that hours had past since he was last aware of his surroundings. What had he been doing the entire night?

Hels shivered again, a phantom chill continuing to rest against the surface of his skin, and wrapped his arms around himself - only to pull apart and look down at his armour.

He wasn't wearing his black armour anymore. It was a suit of shimmering purple - enchanted netherite armour. When had he swapped it out? It was better, he supposed, as his fingers found the hilt of a netherite sword at his waist. This was the improved armoury and weaponry he had wanted. All the better to fight Wels with, all the better to kill Wels with.

But… why did he want to kill Wels?

He shook his head hard, but it didn't help clear the haze in his mind.

The mask had fallen face-up on the floor. Hels gazed at the mask, the vex grinning back at him in its frozen expression. It sparked something in his mind, something he couldn't quite reach, couldn't quite remember.

He picked up the mask and held it in his hand, feeling its smooth surface between his fingers. Before he could ponder what was so special about the mask, his hands had moved on autopilot, folding it and stuffing the mask into his pocket. The soft material bent easily, ready to spring back into shape when he pulled it out again.

Why had he done that? He didn't really know. He had felt a compulsion to do so. Something about the mask spoke to him. It was his mask. He should keep it on him at all times. He would be called upon to wear it again. Soon.

Called upon? By whom? Vexes?

What did those vexing little creatures have over him? Hels huffed a little in amusement at himself. He was Helsknight. He didn't need no dumb little vexing creatures to help him kill Wels-

Hels doubled over in sudden pain, hands pressed against his ears, teeth grinding in a painful grimace as a loud line of white noise interrupted his thoughts.

 _Are you mocking us?_ Came a high pitched voice through the noise.

 **No,** came the hurried response in his mind before he could even think.

 _Insubordination._ A jab of fear ran through him at the sound of the evaluating voice. _Challenging authority._

 **No, please,** a part of himself responded to the voice. His hands trembled with terror he didn't understand even as he pulled the mask out of his pocket again. 

_We rewarded you with the netherite armour you wanted. We expected better behaviour from you, Hels._

**I'll do better. Please. Don't take me again. I'm exhausted. I need a break.**

_We didn't have these disciplinary issues with Cub and Scar. I guess this is what happens when we try to take a stronger mind._

**I'm so sorry,** Hels didn't understand the hot tears running down his cheeks, he didn't understand the pleas his mind was producing in response to the voices. **Please give me another chance,** the small voice trapped in his mind begged.

_You don't get to kill Wels until we say so._

**Of course,** he quickly agreed.

 _Hmm,_ the voice pondered his sentence. Hels knew their decision before they spoke again: his hands, controlled by some other force, pressed the vex mask back against his face.

He wasn't absolutely wrecked with exhaustion anymore. Magic woke his body up, powered his every vein, every muscle. His mind was clear again, clockwork churning out mischievous ideas and pranks and how to cause havoc. The high-pitch laughter that tore its way through his lips was an eerie mimic of the voice of the vexes.

The higher he climbed now, the further he would collapse when he took the mask off. The more chaos he caused under the influence of the mask, the lesser he would remember when he took the mask off.

It trembled the depth of his heart, terrified him to his core. The unexplainable exhaustion that followed. The mind-numbing lack of memories.

This moment, trapped between himself and the control of the vexes, was the only moment he could understand that this was his punishment for attempting to think beyond the influence of the vex, for not following exactly what the vexes wanted, for challenging the control he had given the vexes over his life.

And unlike Cub and Scar, he was all alone.

~~How had Cub and Scar broken free of the vexes' grasps?~~

~~Had Cub and Scar ever broken free of the vexes' control over them?~~

That was his last thought before the vexes took hold of him.

 _We think it's time for another lesson_ , came the vocal conclusion of the vexes.

For now, while he had the mask on, he felt nothing but absolute euphoria.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought?


End file.
